[This post is from Phelan’s point of view.]
I hope she’s right about that, Phelan thought, then reached up to scrub a hand over his face. “Of course—we’ve been all right thus far, anyway. Now what were you saying?”
“You mean when you weren’t listening?”
One corner of his mouth lifted in a rueful smile. “Yes, then.”
“Nothing all that important,” she said, then shook her head, giving him one last squeeze before she let go and started to stand up. “I’m going to go back. You coming?”
He shook his head. “I’ll stay out here a little longer. You’re going to go check on Neve, aren’t you?”
Jacqueline nodded. “She’s probably getting closer than any of us realize. I don’t think she was paying attention to when things might have happened.”
Phelan chuckled softly. “Probably not.” There was a lot going on then. “Go on. I’ll catch up later.”
“You going to be okay?”
“Always,” Phelan said, though they both knew it was probably a lie.
Jacqueline leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple before she turned and walked away. Phelan looked out over the ravine again. His fingers sank into the grass as he sat there in front of the hedges. The wards were weaker now, weaker than he remembered them being.
Marin hasn’t been out here to tend them for a few days. Probably what it is.
The fact that they relied so heavily on her to take care of the wards should have worried him more than it did, especially in light of what he knew, of what she’d told him in the past.
We need to change that.
Footsteps approached from behind and Phelan opened his eyes, exhaling quietly.
“What is it, Thordin?”
The footsteps stopped. “How did you know it was me?”
“You’re still limping,” Phelan said, turning. “Where’s Sif? I thought she was still attached to you at the hip.”
Thordin shrugged slightly and sank down into the grass next to him. “I told her I was going up to the forge. She said okay.”
“This isn’t the forge.”
“Nope.”
